Dancing Fingertips
by degrassichick
Summary: Kurt is more than excited to be showing Blaine off at McKinley High's junior prom.  So why is it that Blaine's spending the entire night on the dance floor with Rachel and the girls, while Kurt's spending it at a table in the corner with Sam Evans?


**Hey guys! So, I don't know about you, but I am SUPER PSYCHED for **_**Glee**_** finally coming back! :D And with all the rumors floating around about the prom episode, and upcoming episodes and stuff of the Sam Evans variety (that is still just speculation, sadly), I was really anxious to write another Hevans fic.**

**And so…ta-da :-)**

**R&R and please, no flames!**

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><p><strong>xox<strong>

**degrassichick**

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><p><em><strong>Dancing Fingertips<strong>_

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><p>Even at McKinley High School, Blaine Anderson was the center of attention.<p>

From the moment they had walked arm-in-arm into the tackily decorated gymnasium, all eyes had been on the dapper, incredibly attractive boy who had arrived with Kurt Hummel to the junior prom.

Since he had started back at McKinley, Blaine had been coming over to visit any and every chance he got. At this point, Kurt was used to everyone staring at Blaine in awe. Hell, even Kurt himself still stared at him in awe sometimes – it still amazed him that someone like Blaine was with someone like him. And yet, nothing had prepared Kurt for how McKinley would respond to Blaine Anderson in a slick black tuxedo.

Instantly, his friends from glee club had swarmed around Blaine like moths to a porch light. Rachel took one arm and Mercedes took his other, and they hauled him off to where Tina and Quinn were doing some overdramatic voguing in time to the Lady Gaga song blasting through the speakers.

Kurt let out a sigh as Finn walked by him and lifted his glass of punch in a greeting, his eyes flitting over to Rachel, whose dress was almost identical to the one Olivia Wilde had worn to the Golden Globes this past year – she was even donning the gold heels. Rachel Berry looked beautiful, and Kurt could tell that Finn Hudson definitely noticed.

Mike came up behind Finn and clasped his hands on his shoulders, guiding him over to where Artie was at a table, watching wistfully as Brittany and Santana grinded together on the dance floor, their bodies intertwined in almost every way imaginable.

Kurt's eyes were suddenly glued to the former Cheerios and how happy they looked together. A few weeks ago, while talking over song ideas to fit the "angst" theme that Mr. Schue had assigned them, Brittany and Santana had gotten into a huge argument. Santana had been flirting with Sam, playing with his hair and swinging her legs over his lap when Brittany had all of a sudden blurted out, "STOP IT!"

The entire class had stared at her like they had never seen her before, like somebody else had suddenly possessed her body. Nobody had ever heard Brittany raise her voice before. Artie had put a hand on Brittany's shoulder worriedly, but Brittany simply shook him off and stood up from her chair. Santana had narrowed her eyes into angry slits and sauntered over to Brittany with her arms crossed over her chest. "Problem, Britt?"

And then they had started speaking hurriedly at each other, their words loud and impatient and toppling over one another. Kurt couldn't make out a single word they were saying. Even Rachel – the infamous eavesdropper she was - had a hard time keeping up with them. Mr. Schue had tried breaking them up, but Puck had booed him, urging on the "chick fight," and Mr. Schue had simply rolled his eyes and shook his head. But he didn't stop Brittany and Santana – he just sat down and let it continue with his head in his hands.

Ultimately, the fight had ended when Brittany had yelled, "I LOVE YOU," over whatever it was that Santana was saying, and that had shut her up faster than any other words had ever shut up Santana Lopez.

The room was silent. Dead silent. And Santana was smiling. It wasn't her normal, devious, "I-have-something-on-you" smile; this smile was out of pure happiness. She leaned in closer to Brittany and spoke softly. And then Brittany had beamed back at her and nodded, and then Santana had her hands in Brittany's hair and they were kissing and giggling and completely lost in each other before exiting the choir room and leaving behind an awestruck Sam and a dumbfounded Artie.

And now they were together at prom – Santana's dress gold and slinky; Brittany's pale pink and like something out of a Disney cartoon – and they looked happier than Kurt had ever seen them look.

"They look good together…happy, y'know?" a voice spoke up from behind Kurt. He turned around and saw Sam Evans standing behind him, his hands tucked sheepishly into his pants pockets.

Kurt hadn't spent much time hanging around Sam. He'd see him in school or at his house when he was playing Call of Duty with Finn, but they'd never really talked all that much, not since the beginning of the year – when he'd lusted after him and his allegedly dyed hair and Sam had defended his honor against Karofsky. It had all been pre-Blaine, and it seemed like a lifetime ago. But, there was one thing that Kurt could safely say about Sam, and that was that he filled out a tux _extremely_ well – he'd already known that from his dad and Carol's wedding, of course, but he looked even better now.

Kurt looked over at him curiously, confused. "This doesn't bother you?" he asked, nodding over to the girls. "Your girlfriend dumping you for her best friend – who's female – and now the two of them being at prom together?" He then nodded over to Quinn, whose eyes had just fallen onto Puck, who'd came in "fashionably late" with Lauren Zizes. "And your _other _girlfriend cheated on you with my stepbrother and lied to you about it before ultimately getting mono from your previously mentioned _other_ ex-girlfriend," he pointed back over to Santana.

Sam grimaced. "Well, when you put it _that_ way…"

"Sorry," he was quick to apologize. He pointed to his mouth as if needing a visual aid. "There's no filter sometimes."

"I take it Finn filled you in about the whole Quinn fiasco?"

Kurt shook his head. "Mercedes. Finn and I don't get much into 'girl talk.'"

Sam smirked and Kurt's eyes were immediately drawn to the banana curve of his mouth. "To be honest, Santana only liked me for my lips." Kurt could easily see why. Sam pulled a tin of Ice Breakers out of his pocket and popped one into his mouth before shrugging, his eyes shifting from Santana and Brittany back over to Kurt. "And she's _really_ happy with Brittany – I can't be very upset or bothered if she's with somebody who makes her that happy."

"But what about you?" Kurt found himself asking.

Sam seemed confused. He raised an eyebrow at Kurt and smiled at him curiously. "What _about_ me?"

"Don't you deserve to have someone who makes you happy? I mean…it's _prom_, Sam. It may be incredibly tacky, but it's a big deal. And you're here alone."

Sam nudged Kurt with his hip, which Kurt was slightly taken aback by. He still wasn't used to guys being so forward around him, especially when they were straight quarterbacks like Sam Evans. "I'm not alone. I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Kurt rolled his eyes with a small, pointed smile on his lips. "But, what happens when I go to my date and you're still standing here?"

Sam nods off in Blaine's direction before looking at Kurt and lifting his shoulders in a short shrug. "It doesn't look like you're going to be going to him anytime soon."

Kurt's eyes followed the path Sam's gaze had just recently taken and realized that Blaine was doing an overdramatic interpretation of the Cupid Shuffle and he pursed his lips, looking back at Sam. "Well, I could go over there right now if I wanted to."

Sam blinked back at him expectantly, waiting for him to make his next move or say his next words.

Kurt simply tossed his tuxedo scarf around his neck and sighed. "I just don't feel like dancing. Especially not to this song. I'm simply waiting for the big slow dance of the evening so that I can finally show off Blaine properly."

Sam nodded and he had a very small smile on his larger-than-life lips. "I don't think the prom can even handle me right now," he punned lamely before pointing toward one of the many empty tables decorated with flowers and tea candles. "Do you want to go talk or something and wait for yours and Blaine's moment in the sun?"

And for some reason that he couldn't quite explain, Kurt murmured, "Sure, why not," and followed Sam to the table.

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><p>"Oh, you've <em>gotta<em> be kidding me," Sam argued an hour and forty-five minutes later, slamming his half-drank cup of punch on the table with such force that it splashed onto the white table cloth. "You _seriously_ think that the remake of _Footloose_ is going to be _good_?"

Kurt shrugged simply, dabbing at the small red juice splatters with a napkin. "I don't see why not. Kenny Ortega was going to be the director, it's not like he's green-light just _any_ production."

"And then he backed out," Sam pointed out. "Probably with good reason."

Kurt rolled his eyes and shook his head, leaning back in his seat and crossing his left leg over his right knee. "Julianne Hough is going to be in it, she's a phenomenal dancer."

Sam scoffed. "So _what_? Nothing could beat the original _Footloose_…haven't you seen _Scream 4 _yet? They said it best themselves, 'The first rule of remakes—"

"Don't fuck with the original," Kurt cut him off, shaking his head and holding up a halting hand. "Yeah, yeah, I saw the movie – Tina, Mercedes, and Santana dragged me to it opening night. That still doesn't mean that you shouldn't give the remake a chance."

Sam grumbled a response, shaking his head bitterly.

Remarkably, _not_ dancing at prom was turning out to be more enjoyable than actually dancing. Blaine had stopped by for a few songs, asking Kurt if he wanted to bop along with him and his friends to _Thriller_ or _The Macarena_, but every time Kurt had turned down the proposal. Even if Blaine had seemed a little letdown by his boyfriend's answer, he didn't seem to be missing him all that much on the dance floor. Every time a girl had stopped by the table to ask Sam to dance, he had waved them off, too engrossed in the conversation at hand to pay attention to much of anything else.

It was getting toward the end of the dance, a lot of the couples beginning to disappear out the doors and into the dance, off to after parties or hotel rooms, and yet, Kurt and Sam were still sitting at their otherwise empty table off in the corner of the gymnasium, the candles burned down to just a small puddle of wax, empty napkins and glasses surrounding them.

So far, they had discussed the ins and outs of celebrity relationships (apparently, Sam had taken it almost as hard as Kurt had when he'd heard about the demise of Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johansson), television shows that were likely to return and likely to get cancelled, _Avatar_ (a conversation which Sam had carried on for about eighty-percent of its duration), how much Facebook sucked, and, most recently, why Hollywood felt the need to remake every single good movie that had ever been made. Kurt didn't feel like he was missing out on much of his prom at all.

"Okay, guys, only a few dances left before midnight, so if your feet aren't dying of fatigue yet, your chances are dwindling down to get them nice and aching!" one of the chaperones, Holly Holliday, cheered out over the microphone. Throughout the course of the night, her voice had been lagging more and more with every passing trip to the microphone stand and she'd been stumbling over her sentences, laughing and hiccupping every few words. Clearly, she was having just as much fun with the spiked punch as the McKinley students were.

The Pussycat Dolls song that had been playing faded out and was replaced by the slow crooning opening bars of 'Wonderwall' by Oasis began to waft through the auditorium.

"Oh my God," Kurt noted, looking up at one of the loud speakers in the corner. "They're actually playing a slow song for the first time this entire night."

"Not true," Sam pointed out. "They played 'When You Look Me in the Eyes' by The Jonas Brothers, like, an hour ago."

"Yuck," Kurt cringed, shaking his head. "I could never slow dance to that song, it's almost as bad as 'I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing' by Aerosmith."

Sam jerked upright and his mouth dropped. "That song _rocks_, Hummel. It's from _Armageddon…_it's a classic."

"It's _awful_," Kurt argued. "This song, however, is fantastic. It's a _true_ classic."

"Then I guess this is your 'big moment' with Blaine, right?" Sam noted, his voice suddenly casing a rigid tone that it hadn't been holding before. Or maybe Kurt was just hearing things.

Kurt nodded, smiling softly, his eyes drifting over the dance floor to where Blaine was. He found him slow-dancing with Mercedes, the two of them laughing and smiling. His face fell.

All around him, the remaining couples were swaying together slowly, and very few people were left in their seats.

Santana and Brittany had disappeared from the dance over half an hour ago, Tina and Mike were nuzzling noses with their bodies pressed tightly together – they were barely even dancing; they were just…standing there, Finn and Rachel had finally gotten thrown back together and they didn't look like they were going to be letting each other go anytime soon, and Quinn – McKinley High's newest prom queen – was standing off at the edge of the gymnasium, her arms wrapped tightly around Noah Puckerman and their lips pressed together.

"You deserve a slow dance," Sam declared.

"I'm not really the kind to ask if I can cut in," Kurt sighed, looking back at Sam with defeated eyes. "It's too tacky for my taste."

Sam looked around the gymnasium, at the couples dancing, at the empty tables, at Holly and Mr. Schue making out on the bleachers, until finally meeting Kurt and standing up from the table, holding his hand out to his newfound friend. "Then dance with me."

Kurt blinked back at him, waiting for the punch-line. He sat still for a few moments and didn't make a verbal response until he noticed that Sam's hand wasn't going anywhere, it was still being held out in front of him. "Pardon?"

He smiled back at him and Kurt all of a sudden realized how perfect Sam Evans' teeth were – perfectly straight and pearly white; his entire mouth looked like it belonged in a commercial for Aquafresh or Colgate. "Dance with me," he repeated.

"You're serious," Kurt noted, his voice raising a few decibels like it often did when he was taken by surprise or giddy. Sam Evans was asking him to dance with him. At _prom_.

Without saying another word, Sam took matters into his own hand and picked up Kurt's delicate hand that was resting on the table. He hauled Kurt to the dance floor, placing the pair smack dab in the middle of the sea of swaying couples.

"I'm kind of figuring that the final song of the evening is going to be 'I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing,'" Sam explained as he grabbed Kurt's arms and placed them on his shoulders. Kurt was taken by surprise at how weighty his shoulders were, strong and smooth underneath his jacket. He was taken even more by surprise when Sam's arms locked around his waist, pulling them even closer together. "I figure if you don't do this slow dance right now, you might miss your chance and be stuck with a song that is apparently – according to you – as bad as The Jonas Brothers."

"Oh, you're _hardly_ the one to criticize my comparing that song to The Jonas Brothers, like you think The Jonas Brothers are awful or whatever. If I'm not mistaken, I'm pretty sure the girls all informed me that you started a one-man act as Justin Bieber earlier in the year."

"Hey now," Sam argued as they swayed back and forth, "The Justin Bieber Experience is _huge_ with the Bat Mitzvah set."

Kurt rolled his eyes but smirked nonetheless, letting his eyes wander around the gymnasium and the number of eyes on the unlikely duo. Surprisingly, there weren'tthat many pairs of eyes on them at all. The couples were all too busy focusing on each other to really take much notice of anybody else around them. The only eyes that Kurt could notice on them were those belonging to Blaine Anderson and Mercedes Jones, who had stopped dancing and were now just standing on the floor with shocked expressions on their faces, taking in the scene before them.

Kurt brought his eyes back to Sam and was surprised to see that Sam was looking down at him with a look that Kurt didn't recognize that well. It was a look he'd never seen on Sam's face before.

"I just have one question," Kurt spoke softly, trying to build up his confidence.

Sam let out a loud, overdramatic sigh. "_Yes_, my hair is slightly dyed. It's really not _that_ big of a deal."

"I knew it!" Kurt blurted out, momentarily forgetting the question that he was really going to ask him. Suddenly remembering, the accomplished smile that had just appeared on his face slowly diminished. "But that wasn't _actually_ my question."

"So I spilled a secret for nothing," Sam muttered under his breath before looking back at Kurt and smiling. "What's the question?"

"Why are you doing this?" His words came out in a rush.

Sam smiled confusingly. "Doing what?"

"Dancing with me," Kurt explained. "And you spent almost two hours of your prom talking to me instead of dancing with anyone else."

"I didn't see you complaining," Sam pointed out. Kurt could tell he was trying to make the situation light.

Kurt shook his head. "I'm not complaining. I'm just…I'm surprised is all. I mean, we're not exactly in the same social circle by any means."

"So what?" Sam scoffed. "I learned a long time ago that it doesn't matter what circle you run in, it matters who you choose to run with. Glee club has been one of the greatest things to happen to me in a long time – and you're a part of that," he paused, smiling slowly and staring down at his feet before meeting Kurt's gaze. Wow…had Sam's eyes always been _that_ blue? "Which kind of puts us in the _same_ social circle, doesn't it?"

Kurt bit his lip and noticed Sam's eyes drift down his face, he could tell just where he was looking and it made him blush and tied his stomach in a few knots. "I guess," he stammered out, suddenly more nervous than he had been before. "I guess I'm just surprised that you would dance with…you know…_me_."

Sam's eyes were suddenly staring back into his own brown eyes, and they were wide and crystal clear. "Why wouldn't I dance with you?"

Kurt's heart caught in his throat. Why _wouldn't_ he dance with him? Sam Evans was a quarterback – he was athletic and hot and…_straight_.

Wasn't he?

"Sam," Kurt stuttered out, trying to force his words out. "Are you...you're not…are you?"

"What?" Sam asked, his voice low and quiet and sexier than Kurt had ever heard it sound before. "Gay?" Kurt's knees turned to jelly the second the word fell from his lips.

He was suddenly aware that Sam's face seemed to be edging closer to his, but he couldn't tell who was moving, if it was him or if it was Sam. He didn't really care. He just cared that they were moving.

And then, suddenly, Kurt noticed the figure behind Sam Evans, the figure who was tapping him on the shoulder and asking if Sam would mind if he "cut in" for the last dance. It was Blaine.

Oh, right. Blaine. Blaine Anderson. Boyfriend. Right. Kurt had one of those.

Sam looked from Kurt to Blaine and then back to Kurt as the word "yes" fell from his lips and he backed away, sending Kurt a small smile as he brushed past him. Just for a moment, a moment so fleeting that Kurt wondered if it had even happened at all, Sam's fingers danced over Kurt's, their index fingers locking just for a second before he was gone and Blaine was wrapping his arms around Kurt for the last dance.

The song was "I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing."

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><p>"Mercedes can <em>move<em>," Blaine laughed, his arm wrapped around Kurt's waist as they made their way across the parking lot after the dance was through. They were on their way to Rachel's house now for an after-prom movie marathon. Kurt had looked around as everybody was exiting the gymnasium to see if he could catch Sam and see if he was going to be en route to the after party as well, but he was nowhere to be found. "Did you see her during _Thriller_? I was practically killing myself trying to keep up with her!"

Kurt smiled weakly back at Blaine, his mind somewhere else entirely as they made their way to Blaine's Mercedes.

Blaine nudged Kurt and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. It didn't make his heart race like it normally did, and that scared him. "I'm sorry about tonight. I should have hung around you more than I did the girls; I was a really crappy prom date." Kurt nodded distractedly as Blaine continued. "But you had a decent time talking to Sean, right?"

"Sam," Kurt corrected him, the name falling off of his tongue like silk on hardwood.

"Right, Sam," Blaine nodded. "You had a good time with him, right? It was nice of him to dance with you and all."

Kurt didn't respond as Blaine unlocked the car and the pair slid in.

It wasn't until they were pulling into Rachel's driveway after an entirely silent (on Kurt's end) car ride that Kurt noticed the folded up piece of paper in the pocket of his jacket.

As they got out and Blaine gave Kurt a kiss on the forehead before jogging up ahead of him and ringing the Berry's doorbell, Kurt pulled the paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. He didn't know how it had gotten there, but he knew by the awfully sloppy handwriting exactly who it was from:

_In case you were wondering, the answer to your last question is yes._

An uncontrollable smile found its way onto Kurt's lips as he reread the note once, twice, three more times, taking in each and every letter and word of the chicken scratch. He'd had a hunch all along, and now his thoughts from the very beginning of the year were being confirmed.

"Babe, are you coming?" Blaine asked as the door swung over and Rachel threw her arms around Blaine, grinning at Kurt from over his shoulder. As the hug broke apart, Blaine turned around and smiled at Kurt tenderly, nodding his head toward the inside of the house.

Kurt sighed and tucked the note safely back into his pocket, patting it gently before following Blaine into the house. He knew that there was a conversation that he was going to have to have with Blaine in just a matter of time, and it wasn't going to be an easy conversation – it'd probably be the hardest conversation he'd had to have with anyone, probably even harder than when he'd mustered up the courage to come out to his dad. But it had to be done. It had to be done because Blaine was a really great person, one of the greatest people Kurt had ever known, and he deserved the truth. He deserved better than what Kurt was about to give him.

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><p>Deep down, when their dance at prom had ended, Kurt had had a hunch that it wouldn't be the last time he would share the dance floor with Sam Evans, even if he hadn't wanted to admit it at the time. And he'd been right. There'd been the dance they'd shared when Kurt had showed up on Sam's doorstep the night after prom and pulled him into a kiss before Sam could get a single word out. There'd been the dance at homecoming and the winter carnival and their duets in glee club and senior prom. There were the dances around their kitchen and their living room and their bedroom. There was the dance at their wedding and the dances they shared with their daughters before tucking them into bed at night.<p>

There were a lot of dances to be had between Kurt Hummel and Sam Evans…

…but those were different stories to be told.

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><p><strong>The End<strong>

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><p>This was finished about an hour before the new episode of <em>Glee<em> premiered tonight, and ah...what an episode it was. I'm guessing Holly **wouldn't** be the chaperone at prom...and even if she was, she and Will probably wouldn't be making out, but oh well. I love her. haha...and OMG Kurt will officially be back at McKinley next week!

Anyway...I hope you all liked it! :)

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><p><strong>xox<strong>

**degrassichick**


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